


Practically Impractical: Jumin and Saeyoung's first time

by CannibalKats



Series: Practically Impractical [3]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 07:25:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12383586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CannibalKats/pseuds/CannibalKats
Summary: This is part of my MCJuCiel fic Practically Impractical, this fic would take place shortly after the other first time fic early in the story.





	Practically Impractical: Jumin and Saeyoung's first time

1

Jaehee isn’t entirely certain  _ why _ she’s been called into Mr. Han’s office. It’s certainly too early on a Monday morning to be standing opposite him already this frustrated. “I don’t understand what you’re asking me.” She admits finally.

Jumin Han sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I am simply attempting to  _ understand _ . You claim that you’re appreciation of Zen is nothing more than that of a fan, as such I assumed you would be the best person to ask.”

“You’ve said that,” she frowns and grits her teeth. “But you still haven’t  _ asked _ me anything.”

She’s never seen Jumin Han embarrassed before. She’s seen him feign embarrassment, she has seen him disgusted, and frustrated and any other number of emotions but not this, not embarrassed.

He shifts in his seat and leans forward but she can see him still trying to find the words.

“Is this about Callie?” She tries. It would make sense at least, he spent a significant amount of time with the newest member of the RFA he’d hired her on to coordinate and host C&R events and with Callie available and  _ willing _ to spend her evenings at banquets and dinners Jaehee had found herself with more than the odd evening off.

It would be concerning if he’d developed feelings for Luciel’s fiancé however. It would be concerning if he developed feelings for  _ anyone _ she muses, smiling to herself.

“No,’ he says firmly. “I understand my appreciation of Ms. Miller, I have no concerns regarding our relationship it is,” he groans in frustration and runs a hand through his hair.

“For the love of god spit it out,” she growls.

She snaps her mouth shut but she doesn’t apologize. Jumin’s cheeks go pink and he glances away for a moment before looking directly into her eyes, the same look of determination on his face as when he has to go on a dinner date his father has arranged.

“I apologize for the vulgarity in the statement I am simply trying to understand, If Zen were to ask you to bed would your appreciation  _ stop _ there? Or would you join him.”

She can feel her face get hot and it’s all she can do not to throw the papers she’s holding at him. “I-I don’t think I will ever find myself in that situation.”

“That is why they would call this hypothetical. Simply stated, does your aesthetic and professional respect for Zen end before or after sexual relations?”

He clenches his jaw shut and watches her mind work. There were likely better people he could ask this question to. Ms. Kang did not appear to go on dates but she also talked as though she had at least some experience with this aspect of life. He trusted that she would keep this between them and professional, where if had chosen to speak with his father he would likely face some uncomfortable inquires, Zen would tease him and he didn’t trust any of the other executives who pretended to be friendly with him.

Let Ms. Kang think he’s asking about Amelia, he didn’t mind whatever assumption she made. She would keep it to herself, she would answer precisely without letting that assumption colour her words.

“B-before,” Jaehee manages. He watches her eyes dart around the room and he’s aware this is an uncomfortable topic of conversation but he’s been uncomfortable for weeks. “Desire and appreciation  _ can _ intersect,” she continues, “but if I understand what you’re asking then no you would not want to do  _ that _ with someone you value on a purely aesthetic or  _ professional _ level.”

“Hmm,” he considers.

“T-that’s not to say another person wouldn’t answer differently, it’s a very subjective topic Mr. Han.”

He nods. “Take the morning off Assistant Kang.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Please, take the morning off,” he’s trying to thank her for answering his ridiculous enquiry why was she frowning? He needs some time to compose himself and seeing her whenever he leaves his office will fluster him further.

“I have a lot of work to complete, Mr. Han.”

“Then work from home, I don’t care I just don’t want to look at you right now.” He knows he needs to attempt to word things better. Amelia is always telling him that he chooses his words poorly, but Ms. Kang smirks and shrugs.

“Fine.”

It’s not exactly the clarity he had hoped for but Jumin thinks given time he could work with this.  The thoughts were already forming and he suspects that he  _ should _ have been able to parse his feelings without involving anyone else.  Sometimes a second set of hands was required to unravel a knot however and regardless her response had given him direction.

2

“I’m really sorry,” she sounds regretful even through the phone. “I know we had plans this weekend and it’s really last minute but Max  _ really _ wanted to go, and the school was going to cancel due to lack of volunteers an-”

“Amelia,” he chuckles, “I will survive.  It was simply dinner with my father.”

“Well, we had  _ other  _ plans too,” she points out.

“Perhaps it is Luciel you should apologize to,” he says softly and there’s a weight that settles in his chest, a knot that he hasn’t quite worked free just yet.

She laughs, “Oh he’s pouting in his office.”  She inhales and he can picture the way she’d shift her weight and twist up her mouth before she spoke again, “You do know that  _ if you wanted to, _ you could spend  _ time _ with him, you know, without me?”

The weight sinks deeper, seems to grow and then suddenly shrink and he gasps a little for breath. “I, uh, Amelia, I  _ appreciate _ the suggestion-”

“It’s just an offer Jumin, don’t fret about it.”

So he didn’t.  Or rather he attempts not to.  Her words echoing in his mind at the least appropriate moments.   _ Spend time alone with Luciel. _  It had occurred to him once or twice in the past.  Simply knowing the way the man operated, the amount of discretion he was capable of.  It had been appealing.  That appeal had endeared him partially to this arrangement.

The thought remains.  With V no longer here to talk sense, or restraint into him, he’d stepped willingly into this relationship with Amelia and in a way Luciel.  He could and had admitted that with the addition of physical intimacy there were certain feelings he couldn’t deny.  The two of them had sat on either side of him, a strong arm around his shoulder and and delicate hand on his knee, assuring him that his feelings were ok.

She’d admitted to similar indulgences and Luciel had blushed and shrugged and the three together had made an agreement, after a long discussion, to explore the feelings he had for Amelia openly, as long they felt comfortable.  Luciel had blushed, and a knot inside him had loosened. Jumin has to admit that for each knot he unravels in his tangled thread there is an uncomfortable amount of introspection.

Dinner with his father is bleak, he is distracted, bored.  He poorly fields too many questions about Amelia’s sudden absence and finds himself leaving early.  Irritated with the insinuation that his distraction is simply heartsickness.  The raised eyebrows as he enters his building alone do nothing for his mood.  He wonders if he should perhaps have informed his people he would be without his usual guest this evening or would they have reacted similarly regardless.

Did they pity him?

He almost growls as he shoves his door open but the sound dies in his throat when he notices another person standing frozen in the middle of his Penthouse.  He clears his throat.  The familiar long brown wig, the big boots. “You’ve returned early,” he says softly, relieved for the distraction.

She turns slowly but instead of Amelia’s whiskey coloured eyes he’s met with Luciel’s Golden ones.  Elizabeth III hugged close to his chest.  He doesn’t quite have the surprise wiped from his face before he’s turned but it’s quickly replaced by a wry smile. “I think you’re the one home early Mr. Han.”

“Did you dress like your fiance simply to torment my cat, Luciel?” Jumin sighs, but still something inside him is happy to see Luciel.  He looks soft with one of Amelia’s long formless sweaters falling off his shoulder.

“No,” he smirks, “just a perk.”

Jumin rolls his eyes, but suddenly he’s standing very close to Luciel, not really aware of having closed the distance.  His hand is brushing the soft hair of the wig and Luciel is holding his breath, his face frozen and unreadable. “Take this off,” he says quietly slipping the wig off his head.

Luciel smiles softly. “Yeah I miss her too, dumb huh?  I see her every day, should be sick of her, but every time she’s gone for more than a few hours I’m never sure she’ll come back.”

Jumin sighs.  That had not been the reason he’d wanted the wig removed.  His chest tightens as he realizes the depths of Luciel’s insecurity.  It must have been unbearable for him when Jumin had taken her back to America to retrieve her daughter and her belongings.  Must have been hell every time she’d left for a weekend with Jumin to play his rumored girlfriend.  Yet if he understood correctly this arrangement had been Luciel’s idea.

The two of them stand quietly in the middle of the room ,Elizabeth worming her way out of Luciel’s arms and Jumin indulges himself for a moment.  He runs a hand through Luciel’s hair, tousles the matter curls, fluffing everything back up to it’s familiar mess. “You can stay here until she returns if you’d like.”

Luciel blushes and nods.

“Will your brother be ok?”

“Yeah, he’s at Yoosung’s, there was a LOLOL event this weekend.”

Luciel is on his couch when he gets out of the shower.  He’s playing some game on one of the systems that only see use when Amelia is visiting.  Jumin leans over the  back of the sofa, towel still around his waist, and watches his friend play.  He doesn’t notice that he’s buried his hands in curly red hair until the movement on the screen freezes.  Luciel’s head is lolled back against the couch and he smiles his lopsided smile at Jumin.

“I’m sorry,” Jumin blushes.

“Do you watch her play like that?” Luciel smirks.

“Do you not watch us?” He counters.

Luciel shrugs. “Usually not, unless we’ve made plans.”

“Really?” Jumin asks, genuinely surprised. “I was under the impression-”

“What that I just spied on everyone?” Luciel glances away, “Everyone is entitled to their privacy Jumin, our arrangement is not a carte blanche for me to invade yours.”

“I did not intend to offend you,” Jumin frowns, “I simply had thought that was the agreement we had made.”

Luciel shrugs. “Maybe it was until she, you know, decided she had feelings for you.”  He shifts and throws an arm over the back of the sofa to better see Jumin while he speaks. “So I backed off.”

“You’re ok with that?” Jumin inquires.

Luciel smiles easily, “Of course I am, I’d rather you care about her than just use her.  Maybe it’s weird but if it’s genuine I don’t feel so guilty.  She was always honest about being poly, i can see the appeal to be honest.”

“Really,” Jumin considers the explanation she’d given him weeks ago when they’d confessed their feelings and the odd look Luciel had held during their talk.  He considers the conflicted way he’d felt since then and decides to test a theory.

He leans forward and runs a hand through Luciel’s hair, tugs him gently closer and covers his mouth in a kiss.  He doesn’t intend to push him, simply slots their lips together but Luciel is pliant, his mouth falls open and Jumin can not help but accept the invitation, flicking his tongue into the smaller man’s mouth.  Luciel almost crawls over the back of the sofa, his own hands tangling in Jumin’s wet hair as he sucks lightly on Jumin’s tongue.

The kiss does not last long before Jumin pulls back to evaluate the situation.

Luciel collapses theatrically over the back of the sofa and groans.

“Could you please answer a questions for me,” Jumin says, feeling very small.

Luciel’s head picks up and he nods seriously despite his position.

“Could you please tell me if this is lust or,” he runs a nervous hand through his hair, “or is it possibly, could it be  _ something more _ ?”

Luciel smirks and straightens up but he doesn’t answer as he climbs over the couch and closes the distance between them. “You didn’t ask Callie that,” he points out, fiddling with the towel at Jumin’s waist.

Jumin sighs, “I am not asking if  _ I _ love  _ you _ .” 

Luciel freezes, his cheeks flush and he drops his eyes. “O-oh.”

“I can admit, I think, safely that I have developed certain feelings for you akin to those I feel for Amelia, and yet I find you impossible to read.  Certainly there is something you  _ want _ from me, bu-”

“Jumin,” his voice is clear when he speaks but he doesn’t look him in the eye, “yeah, you’re right, I do, I feel the same as Callie, and there  _ is _ something I want you to do for me.”

Jumin can feel the smile form involuntarily as he nods.

“Can you call me Saeyoung?  If,  _ you know _ , if this is a thing the three of us are going to do like this can you please use my  _ real _ name?”

“Of course Saeyoung,” Jumin smiles.  

Saeyoung smiles back, his wide goofy grin and Jumin finds himself tugged along to his sofa where Saeyoung collapses carelessly and drags him down with him.  He feels relaxed for the first time in weeks, with Saeyoung lounging on his sofa, legs in his lap, wearing Amelia’s clothing.  It’s seems natural and he wonders if this is something he could have fallen into earlier. 

If V had not persuaded him otherwise could he have love Saeyoung much earlier on.  Had V seen that in him, had his reluctance to encourage Jumin to suggest a sexual relationship to a boy he considered family been to protect either of them or simply himself.  For the first time in a long time Jumin wonders if he’d ignored V and this had developed sooner-

Together could they have seen through Rika’s mask or Vs lies in time to do something, could things have been different?

“You ok boss-man,” Saeyoung’s face is very close to his, the TV is off and Jumin isn’t certain how long he’s been sitting there, staring blankly. “Falling asleep or thinking?”

“Thinking,” Jumin admits.

“About?” There’s nothing teasing in those golden eyes and Jumin finds he wishes there was.  He doesn’t want to dwell on what might have been.

So he choses distraction.  He’s seen Saeyoung nude before, not just in photos sent to tease him while he and Amelia made love but at her request they’d taken her in tandem.  There had been an intimacy growing between them so when he lifts Saeyoung’s leg and shifts it over his shoulder he earns little more than a raised eyebrow.

What earns him a response is the moment he hooks his fingers into Saeyoung’s borrowed leggings and drags them down.

“Oh, uh, hey so weird  _ weather _ we’re having,” Saeyoung quips, adjusting himself on the sofa.

Jumin leaves his leggings around his ankles and squeezes in between his legs.  “Mmhmm,” he nods, and and drags his fingers the length of Saeyoung thighs.

“You know,” Saeyoung swallows, braced on his elbows, eyes narrowed on Jumin as he leans forward to press a kiss to the inside of his thigh, “just because we talked about feelings-”

“Shut up,” Jumin grunts.

“Yeah ok, ok, sure,” Saeyoung nods as Jumin wraps one big hand around his cock and strokes. “Yep, shutting up.  Sure.  It’s just you shouldn’t feel, you know ob-oblig-holy shit.”

There’s no teasing, no dragging his tongue the length of Saeyoung’s cock or teasing kisses to the tip.  Jumin swallows Saeyoung’s length, gag reflex non existent, grey eyes watching intently from between his thighs as his throat constricts around his tip.

It serves his purpose, Saeyoung shuts up.  Words lodged in his throat, mouth hung open, cheeks flushed red as his hair.  He whimpers when Jumin swallows around his cock and his head lolls back.  Jumin holds his hips, he sucks roughly, he bobs his head and hollows his cheeks and whenever Saeyoung can bring himself to glance between his thighs he’s met with unrelenting grey eyes.

It’s the most intence blow job Saeyoung can remember.  Even more so than that time he got his dick sucked with a knife to his throat during a mission.

“Jumin, shit, please,” he finds himself begging, suddenly desperate, suddenly very close.

And just like that it stops.  His dick makes a soft  _ plop _ sound as Jumin pulls back and lets it fall from his mouth.  Wordless he unhooks Saeyoung’s legs from behind his back and gently works the leggings over his feet.  Saeyoung watches the taller man fold the leggings and set them on the coffee table, he watches him stand and move towards the hall.  

Saeyoung watches him pat Elizabeth III gently on the head as he glides gracefully past her spot on the bookshelf.

He feels bad somewhat.  A little guilty.  Jumin seemed to be going through something, he’d thought he was going to get him to talk about it, not get a hummer.  He should have stopped him.  Saeyoung fumbles with the hem of his sweater, pulls it down over his knees.  Jumin was either in the bathroom or Callie’s bedroom, he should go apologize to him.  Assure him that stopping was fine. He didn’t expect anything.

He stands and pulls the sweater down.  He’s still tugging on the hem when he hears a deep rumbling laugh.

“Yes I suppose that  _ should _ go.”  Jumin is watching him, leaning against the doorframe, towel forgotten somewhere along the way.

“You know it’s ok to stop,” he manages to eek out.

Jumin smiles at him, a soft genuine smile, and runs a hand through his hair.  Saeyoung has a moment to consider that Callie was right when she said Jumin should style his hair away from his face more often. “Do you want to stop?” Jumin asks.

“I’m uh, it’s just, it’s not big deal if you want to,” he tries again. “We could talk or watch a movie.”

Jumin cross the room swiftly, his hands snake up beneath the sweater, squeezing their way from hip to chest, “would you  _ rather _ talk,” Jumin growls into his ear, nipping at the lobe, “or watch a movie.”

“Jesus fucking Christ no,” Saeyoung sighs as the sweater is pulled over his head.  He almosts laughs when Jumin stops to fold it and set it on top of the leggings.

Jumin steers Saeyoung back to the sofa, and directs him to sit.  He’d thought of this before, dreamt of it. He had fantasized about most of the RFA before Callie had come crashing into his life but Jumin most frequently.  Not that he could ever have had that before between the agency and V, Jumin had never been an option.

He’d thought that was the appeal until Callie had come along, and he’d made that confession.

Now Jumin Han was kneeling in front of him, lips swollen from sucking his cock.  There barest hint of smile set across his face as he rolls a condom over Saeyoung’s dick.  He squeezes pale thighs and pushes himself to standing only to kneel over Saeyoung’s lap and cover his mouth in a kiss.

Jumin’s tongue fucks in and out of Saeyoung’s mouth, one hand braced on his chest while his thumb absently traces Saeyoung’s nipple.  His other hand reaches between them grasps him by the cock and presses the tip of it to his entrance.

“Jesus Jumin wait a minute,” he pants stopping him.

Jumin freezes, he swallows and a nervous look clouds his eyes, ‘Did you want to stop?”

Saeyoung brushes his hair out of his face and worries his lip for a moment before he speaks. “Have you, you know done this before?”

Jumin snorts. “Would you  _ like _ to think you’re the first?”

Saeyoung smiles, he relaxes and shakes his head, “No it’s just, you shouldn’t just,” he lets out a small puff of breath, “you should let me, you know make sure you’re ready.”

Jumin Han, for all his dignity and composure, still kneeling naked over his lover’s fiance, rolls his his eyes and sighs like a petulant child. “What did you think I was doing when I was gone so long?”

“Wait what?” 

Agog, the look on Saeyoung’s face could easily be described as agog, Jumin smirks.

Saeyoung’s hands find Jumin’s hair, his lips find Jumin’s throat and as Jumin lowers himself on Saeyoung length soft moans vibrate against his pulse point.  He lets out a shaky breath as he bottoms out. “G-god,” Saeyoung mumbles between kisses, “fucking, fingering your ass in the other room while I sat here thinking you’d changed your mind.”

Saeyoung’s hands find his ass and lift him up, Jumin braces his hands on the sofa behind him and presses back as Saeyoung fucks into him.

“I h-had no ide-ea you would be so, hng, so insecure, S-Saeyoung,” Jumin tries to quip.

Saeyoung lifts Jumin’s hip farther, slams into him a little harsher, pressing his forehead to Jumin’s chest. “Coulda let me watch s’all,” he grunts. “Woulda helped, s’fuckin hot.”

Jumin snorts, he can feel it ruffle his hair. “You’ll have to earn that,” he says, pressing back against him, ignoring the hands that urge him up.  Jumin takes control, bracing his hands on Saeyoung’s knees and rolling his hips.

Saeyoung whimpers.  He squeezes at Jumin’s hips, drags his nails over his thighs and then grasps his dick in his hand.  He lets Jumin fuck his fist as he fucks himself on Saeyoung’s cock.

“Saeyoung,” Jumin moans his name, it’s like nothing he’s ever heard, nothing like the way his name drips from Callie’s lips.  Jumin says it like an answered prayer.  Whispers it over and over until the movement of his hips starts to falter.

He snakes an arm around Jumin’s waist, he presses his face into Jumin’s neck and sinks his teeth into his shoulder as he strokes, as the whispers of his name turn into wordless whimpers and he feels him tighten around him and release into his hand.  Saeyoung braces his hands around Jumin’s back and shifts to lay him on the sofa beneath him.

He presses soft kisses along his jaw as he fucks into him, “Is this ok,” he whispers against the shell of his ear. “If you want to stop it’s ok.”

“Please,” Jumin says softly, “Saeyoung don’t stop.”

Jumin reaches up and brushes the hair from his face, he runs his hands along Saeyoung’s arms and whispers soft words. Saeyoung contorts himself to press his forehead into Jumin’s chest as he fucks him harder.

“Saeyoung,” he sighs, the words parting his hair, warm against his scalp. “I love you Saeyoung, both of you.  God I love you both.”

He shouts, his hips stutter he whimpers as he continues to fuck through his orgasm, Jumin’s words seeping through his scalp, with the warmth of his breath, into his blood.  Jumin’s words fill his veins, fingers to toes.

When he regains his wits and pulls himself up from Jumin’s chest there are tears on the other man’s face. “Oh, oh, hey, hey, Boss-man,” he says softly sitting up and pulling Jumin into his lap.

The larger man struggles slightly, laughs softly, and pushes at his chest, “What, Saeyoung, what are you doing?”

“You’re crying,” Saeyoung frowns.  He runs his thumb through the wet tracks of tears on Jumin’s face.

Jumin wipes at his eyes with the heels of his palm and shoves himself away from Saeyoung. “I don’t feel like I’m crying, I’m not upset.”

He looks almost embarrassed.

“I suppose I must just be that good, brings a tear to your eye, Callie is always telling me-”

Jumin quiets him with a kiss before pushing out of his lap and disappearing down the hall again.

Saeyoung waits a moment, gets his bearings and then makes his way to the guest bathroom to clean himself up.  When he’s done Jumin is waiting for him with a pair of sleep pants and a tshirt.  

“I’m sorry if I rushed things,” Jumin says as Saeyoung takes a seat beside him.

“It’s not that big of a leap from what we’ve done with Callie,” Saeyoung shrugs, “as long as you were comfortable with what happened.”

“Could I ask you a question?” Jumin frowns.

“Sure,” Saeyoung smiles.

“Why does everyone treat me like glass when we discuss intercourse?”

Saeyoung snorts, “Well you’re not incredibly, you know,  _ experienced _ .”

“I have more experience than  _ you,”  _ Jumin shoots back, “why would anyone think I’m inexperienced, simply because I’m discreet.”

“Because you say things like  _ intercourse _ , and you don’t believe in living together before marriage,” Saeyoung points out.

“Living separately and abstinence are not the same thing.  Women move in with my father to force intimacy, a technique he’s always been susceptible to, I simply mean to avoid that.”

“Not because you think God and the apostles are gonna judge you then?”

Jumin raises an eyebrow, “You are far more religious than I am Saeyoung, yet you live with your fiance.”

“Ok, you got me, we’re sinners,” he chuckles.

“You know,” Jumin says quietly, it’s gotten quite late.”

“Mmhmm,” Saeyoung hums. “I suppose I’ll sleep in Callie’s room.”

“If that’s what you’d like,” Jumin says and Saeyoung thinks he might be pouting.

Callie didn’t like to cuddle when she slept. She always teased him about having her own room at Jumin’s and Saeyoung wonders how often Jumin let her wander off on her own when he’d rather have held her, or perhaps been held by her.

“You know,” he says, trying his best to look nervous, he worries his lip, “if you don’t mind.  Could I stay with you?”

A look of relief passes Jumin’s face, quickly replaced with his usual neutral expression, “If you feel like you must.” Jumin nods.

Saeyoung follows him to the bed, he slips in next to Jumin and there’s an awkward moment where they simply lie next to one another.  Not close enough to touch, both on their backs and he seriously considers waiting Jumin out and going to Callie’s room.  Maybe he’d misread him.

Then Jumin relaxes, he shuffles close enough to touch his temple to Saeyoung’s.  The red head gives him a moment before he tucks himself tight against Jumin’s side, he makes a little noise of triumph as he throws a leg over him and feels Jumin’s arms wrap around him. Feels the jut of Jumin’s chin tight against his head.

They fall asleep like that.

When Saeyoung wakes the first time not much has changed aside from the weight of Elizabeth III sleeping on his hip.  He suspects Jumin is awake, the light of the early morning sun burns against his eyelids and he thinks he can feel Jumin patting his precious pet but he doesn’t open his eyes.

When he wakes the second time Jumin is gone, Ellie is curled up in the empty space where he had been and Saeyoung can smell something sweet cooking.  He stretches and rolls towards the kitchen.  He opens one eye and squints at Jumin, in athletic pants and an apron flipping pancakes in the kitchen.

“Are you cooking Mr. Han?” He smirks raising himself onto his elbow.

“Does that surprise you Mr. Choi?”

Saeyoung chuckles.

“I had Driver Kim make a trip to the bunker, you didn’t bring anything with you.”

“I didn’t think you’d actually let me stay.”

 


End file.
